The Dark Lord of Sakeron
by KeeperofDarkShadows
Summary: The horrific secrets of Dracula's past are revealed as he is resurrected, and now Van Helsing must find a way to stop him before it's too late, but there is an eviller, ancient threat that has awoken...and it doesn't care which side you're on.
1. The Return

Prologue

Beyond the gateway in the Valerious Manor it was always midnight. Raging storms constantly swirled over the ruins of Castle Dracula, casting the fortress in an eternal haze of ice and snow. Beyond the monolithic stone outer walls of the castle there was no life. It had lain dormant for some time now, but the northernmost tower revealed the fate of one of the castle's inhabitants.

Amidst the machines of the deceased Dr. Frankenstein lay a pile of ashes, the only remains of Count Vladislaus Dracula. They lay hardly disturbed at all, despite the merciless elements that tore through the sky above. An occasional gust of wind would cause the ashes to stir slightly, but the pile strangely lay neatly intact, as if the ashes almost wanted to stay together, bizarre as this may have seemed.

The ashes lay like that for nearly a year, until the day of Midsummer's eve, when something unduly odd occurred.

As the first stroke of midnight tolled out across the vast mountainous region of Transylvania from the many homes and towns of Romania, something began to happen. In the decrepit northernmost tower, the ashes of Vladislaus Dragulia began to stir. The movement was barely visible to the untrained eye, and even then, the movement may not have been so peculiar, if it had not been for what happened next.

As lightning stuck overhead, illuminating the tower, Count Dracula's ashes came to life. Rising up in spiraling columns, the smoky tendrils of ashes slowly began snaking themselves together, moving with a strange life of their own. They began forming themselves into a shape undoubtedly human in form. A cloud of mist encircled the tower, and when it finally cleared a man lay in replace of the ashes.

Clothed in tattered black military style clothing, the man lay unmoving on the cold stone floor. His long dark hair was pulled back away from his face, but wisps of it had come loose and now blew over his pale, striking features. For a moment it was the only movement within the tower, and then, quite suddenly, the man's eyes snapped open.

His cold, icy blue gaze slowly swept the room, and he slowly rose to his feet, swaying slightly. He examined his hands, turning them over and slowly flexing them, as if unsure he was even real.

He looked up from his hands to the machines of Frankenstein, and then to the clock face fixed to the nearest tower, ringing the third stroke of midnight. For a moment he only looked about silently, his face lacking any expression, his cold eyes unreadable. Then a slow, menacing smile crept onto his face, and Count Dracula began to laugh.

He threw back his head and laughed, his cold, sinister laughter echoing off the walls of the crumbling tower. "You have failed, Van Helsing!" Dracula shouted triumphantly. "You have failed!"

The wind mingled with his voice, creating a chilling howl that could be heard from miles off.


	2. A dream, A Warning

A man stood on a stormy balcony overlooking a wild extension of forest, deep in thought. A mask covered his face, protecting him from the worst of the gale. He was listening to the sounds of the Wood, as he often did at nightfall, but this time, he was listening for something else as well.

In the fading light his keen ears detected an echo from the east, an incongruity that cut through the perfect harmony of his wood. The voice on the wind carried with it the tainted feel of darkness, and the man knew. It had happened. What he had been waiting for had happened, just as the Ancients had foretold. He felt slightly disturbed byt his most recent event, and stroked his masked chin, thinking.

A young man stepped onto the balcony, and asked cautiously, "You called, my lord?"

The masked man nodded, and spoke slowly, weighing his words carefully. "Send the message...tell them that it has happened.They shall know...what to do."

"As you wish, my lord." The man bowed and quickly left the older man standing alone on the balcony once again.

"Strange, the ways in which the fates work..." he murmured. He turned and left the balcony, going to formulate a plan of what he knew he must do, and regretting what was to take place deeply.

_Van Helsing was gliding through the ancient halls of what once must have been a great castle, the grime of many centuries staining its stone walls. Something was calling to him, drawing him forwaed through the dark corridors._

_Twilight shown down faintly through the primeval stained glass windows as Van Helsing drifted forward like a macabre spirit of the dead, drawn by the invisible presence that had taken hold over him. At the end of a long hallway he could see a door quickly approaching him, ghostly green light filtering underneath it from the room beyond. Somehow Van Helsing knew that the door was his destination. As he drew nearer the door suddenly sprung open of its own accord, and he found himself carried forward into the void that lay beyond._

_A creature stood within the faintly lit room, a dark, towering entity, barely visible against the deep shadows cast by the dying light of dusk. Van Helsing thought of the being as a creature, because there seemed to be something about them that seemed chillingly inhuman, despite the fact the being's back was turned. Just seeing the hooded figure sent shivers up Van Helsing's spine, and he stood dead still, hoping that it would not notice him._

_Whatever the creature was, it did not notice him, and it strode across to the other side of the room, muttering something under its breath. It brust past Van Helsing, leaving a chill in the air as it passed._

_Van Helsing was able to catch a glimpse of the creature's face as it paced across the room, completely oblivious to his presence. Its features were hidden by the long midnight cloak that it wore,his (for Van Helsing could now tell that it was a he) hood pulled down low over his face so that his face were in shadow. His lips were the pale color that looked as if they could have belonged to a corpse, and indeed he looked like the grim reaper himself. As the last of the sun's rays began to vanish beyond the horizon, the being conjured into a gloved hand a single obsidian crystal, perfectly rounded, lifting it up so that it was level with his shadowed eyes._

_He stiffened suddenly, as though he had seen something within the its reflection, and Van Helsing felt the creature turn, its hidden gaze meeting his own._

_He could feel hatred radiate from every inch of the creature's being and knew, with a horrifying certainty, that it could see him. It drew its lips into a snarl and said, in a voice like thunder, "Do you wish to play a game, mortal?" It extended its hand outward toward Van Helsing, holding out the crystal like a morbid gift._

_Van Helsing cautiously reached out a hand to touch it, and as soon as his bare flesh made contact, he let out a harsh cry. A jolt of electricity like a thousand burning needles shot up his arm and sent a feeling of icy fire upon his fingertips, shooting through his nerves and across his skin, burning and spreading across his body like a hellish plague. He jerkily withdrew his fingers and watched as the crystal shattered into a million shards in the palm of the creature's hand, evaporating in a hiss of black smoke. The being let out a low, evil chuckle like the sound of dry leaves in an autumn breeze, and then made an unmistakable sigh of satisfaction._

_Van Helsing looked down at the palm of his hand that he had touched the crystal with, and could see there, glowing a faint blue, a strange, celtic symbol, tattooed into the very flesh. It was a circular, interwoven symbol, the center creating a strange mark that Van Helsing could not recognize. He looked back up, and saw that the creature was watching him intently. _

_"So you accept my challenge, hunter of the night?" the creature whispered. It sneered and said softly, "And so it has begun." The creature tilted its head upward, revealing eyes of a terrifying crimson red. From within the folds of its cloak it withdrew a wickedly curved sword, and it hissed, "There is no escaping destiny..." Before Van Helsing could move the creature struck with inhuman speed, bringing the sword in a curving arc straight toward Van Helsing's unprotected neck._

Van Helsing woke with a start as Carl's voice jolted him back to consciousness.

"Van Helsing, were you even listening to a word I said?" Carl asked in annoyance.

"Sorry, must have dozed off," Van Helsing said dazedly. He realized that he was seated back in the Underground's weapon testing area, and that Carl looked like he was feeling like using the nearest weapon on him, from the expression on his face.

Carl snorted. "Figures," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough so that Van Helsing would hear. "As I was saying, before you rudely started snoring, _this _is my newest invention." Carl held up what looked like a strange cross between a gun (or perhaps a mortar?) and a high-powered crossbow, and Van Helsing had to admit, it did look impressive. He did not say that outloud, though, not wanted to add to Carl's already overinflated ego.

"It looks alright to me," Van Helsing said indifferently. He then added, with a hint of indignation in his voice, "And I do not snore."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say," he said sarcastically. "You're already going to be leaving tomorrow, and you're still not close to being prepared."

Van Helsing ran his hands through his long, dark hair and sighed. "I know," he said unhappily.

Carl's mood seemed to soften a bit as he saw the distressed look on his friend's face, and he said, "Really, Van Helsing, what's been bothering you? You're not usually like this."

Van Helsin shifted in his seat, feeling tired. "It's nothing much, really," he said. "I just keep having these bloody nightmares, that's all."

"What sort of nightmares?" Carl asked curiously, setting aside his bizzare hybrid crossbow. "You never know, they could maybe mean something." Van Helsing thought that perhaps Carl was joking, but when he saw the look on Carl's face he realized that the friar was being completely serious.

"Well," Van Helsing said hesitantly, "I keep having these dreams about Dracula, and towers...just now, I had one with this...this thing...it asked me if I wanted to play a game..." Van Helsing shuddered as he recalled the creature's crimson eyes, and its voice, so strangely familiar, yet foreign as well. "I don't know, Carl...they're all just so...strange..."

Carl listened intently as Van Helsing relayed to him his entire recent nightmare, up to the point of his waking. Carl had a strange, thoughtful look on his face by the time Van Helsing had finished, and his annoyance at Van Helsing earlier was now completely forgotten. "van Helsing," he asked, "Do you remember what this fellow's voice sounded like?"

Van Helsing thought for a moment, trying to think of a way to describe the sinister voice that had imprinted itself upon his mind. "It was sort of raspy, hoarse, I suppose you could say. There was something about it, I don't know,it seemed familiar..." Van Helsing said slowly.

Carl looked somewhat disturbed about something, and Van Helsing asked, "What is it, Carl?"

Carl frowned, as if in deep thought, and then he shrugged. "I don't know...nothing, I suppose. I was just thinking about something...I'll have to look into it when you get back..." Carl's voice trailed off, and Van Helsing knew that he wasn't going to get much else out of Carl on whatever it was that his friend had remembered. Carl was like that sometimes, it was just in his personality. No matter how much you bugged him about something, he didn't say a word on it until he felt like it.

"Do you think it might mean something?" van Helsing asked, referring to his nightmare. A strange expression once again crossed Carl's face for a moment and then he just shook his head. "Most likely not. Everyone gets a weird dream like that now and again. It's probably nothing. I wouldn't worry about it."

Van Helsing got to his feet, brushing off his favorite trenchcoat. He looked down at his palm, almost half expecting to see the vivid, glowing symbol there, but to his relief, there was nothing. "You're probably right, Carl," Van Helsing said. "It doesn't help that I'm having nightmares about Dracula, though, especially now that I'm going back to Transylvania tomorrow..."

Carl clapped Van Helsing on the back, trying to be encouraging. "Well then, that's probablt the whole reason why, then," Carl said seriously. "It's probably just the bad memories."

Van Helsing nodded, knowing that Carl was most likely right as usual.

"I'll see you in the morning to see you off, alright?" Carl said.

Van Helsing smiled for the first time that day. "Alright."

Heading back up the stone steps out of the underground, only then did Van Helsing realize that Carl never did tell him what the cross bow was for.


End file.
